


An Inescapable Wind

by Irys_Stardust



Series: An Inescapable Wind [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Explicit Language, Feels, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Torture, LGBTQ Themes, Near Death Experiences, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Addiction, Set in 2019 or 2020 ish, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:20:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22082500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irys_Stardust/pseuds/Irys_Stardust
Summary: Three years after everything went to shit - y'know, the emergence of the Deadline Virus, the failure of the IRA and NDRO to contain the Virus, all that stuff - Artie Gaiman is finally out of Wisconsin and on his way home to Oregon.Except for the fact he may have pissed off a horde of bleeders near St. Louis, and had to be rescued from said horde by a girl calling herself Cyrille, who is, in all honesty, pretty badass.Next thing on his priority list, finding one of these so-called "safe zones."
Relationships: Artie Gaiman & Thalia "Cyrille" Salomon, Artie Gaiman/Jerome Halladay, Thalia "Cyrille" Salomon/Eryn Becker
Series: An Inescapable Wind [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589512
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	An Inescapable Wind

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [When the Dead Walk the Earth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14129220) by [SilenceIsGolden15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15). 



My Dad, he used to have this fancy-ass, probably-cost-more-than-med-school-fees watch, right? And, and let me tell you, it looks _real_ nice. It looks like one of them Vincero watches from the almost-5-minute YouTube ads from when WiFi was still a thing. It looks like the, uh, the, _oh Goddammit_ , it looked like the fricken ‘Chrono S’ one, in, in “gunmetal/walnut.” But, the watch, see, it’s got the tech of the Apple Watches, the Series 5 ones, the _new_ ones that the Apple fanatics were getting hyped about.

It’s insane.

I don’t know if Vincero and Apple teamed up and fucked about and my Dad’s watch was their lovechild or some weird shit like that. _I don’t know, don’t fuckin’ ask about what’s goin’ on in my head, half the fucking time_ I _don’t know what’s goin’ on in there_.

Anyway... My Dad - he _used_ to have this watch, right? But then, “shit hit the fan” and my Dad, he used to work for the Josephine County Sheriff’s Office in Oregon. And one thing led to another, and my Dad ended up working either at Santiam State Forest, after it was turned into a “refugee” camp, for a week or at the Columbia River border crossing into Washington, for a week, which was used for refugees to get to the evac. camps and be shipped out of the US. And, one day, Dad was working at the refugee camp at Santiam and they… They got overrun by people who’d gotten infected by this thing called the “Deadline Virus” which, when explained, sounds like a mix of the diseases in _The Last of Us_ and _Days Gone_.

So, now, _now_ , Dad’s dead and his body’s rotting in Santiam, and the watch? I have _no clue_ where it is now.

>>\------------------>\--><\--<\------------------<<✪>>\------------------>\--><\--<\------------------<<

I was fourteen when the Virus broke out and Dad was made to work at refugee camps and border crossings. My Dad’s stepsister, my… _Step-aunt?_ Her and her husband and her mother (my Dad’s stepmother) had offered to “provide for me” until we were sure the Virus had been eradicated. So I’d been staying with Aunt Jaclyn and Uncle Toby, and their son and daughters.

We’d found out Dad was dead while Aunt Jaclyn was ordering dinner on a Thursday - pizza night because Uncle Toby had to go to work the night shift. We’d found out because the hockey game we’d been watching had stopped, cut by a breaking news report - _Refugee Camp Overrun in Santiam State Forest, Hundreds Dead_.

I… I remember it so clearly - remember every bit of the report - remember them reading out the names of those killed - remember them showing a picture, an _old_ picture of Dad in his fatigues from when he was still in the army, “ _Elijah Gaiman, honourably discharged Sergeant Major in the US Army, now a police officer of Josephine County PD, killed while protecting a young family at Santiam_.”

For nearly 6 weeks after the news bulletin, I wasn’t allowed to _anything_ by myself - I was put on suicide watch, I was given two types of these _real fuckin’ strong_ anti-depressants. One was a “risky” anti-depressant to give to a then fifteen-year-old; it was called, like, um, a “monoamine oxidase inhibitor,” even though it said EMSAM on the packet the pharmacist handed to Aunt Jaclyn when we picked them up. The other one was called REMERON if I think hard enough to remember the little details.

7 months after Dad died, I gave up hoping that the bulletin was wrong, that Dad would come back.

8 months after my hope died, I woke up with a lurid green-and-yellow mark covering my cheek and the side of my neck. Uncle Gabe called the army scientists. I was taken away, shipped out to a secret base in Wisconsin.

>>\------------------>\--><\--<\------------------<<✪>>\------------------>\--><\--<\------------------<<

I became Experiment J35-59DK0 - B. The pet project of the entire fucking army. I would wear a white-and-grey-striped uniform, a T-shirt with amber shoulders, and a pair of pants that finished halfway up my shins. Different to the entirely grey uniform of the other “experiments.”

The scientists just called me J35.

_Why was I a B?_

_Was there an A before me?_

The first thing that happened (that I remember) was being pinned down to a surgery bed, having my code tattooed along my forearm in indelible ink, having a tracking capsule like the ones in _The Fifth Wave_ pushed under the skin at the nape of my neck. Then I was thrown into what could only be described as a holding cell.

The days, months, maybe even years, that passed became a blur. The scientists experimented on me, said the mark I’d woken up to was a mutation of the Virus, one that could possibly be used as a vaccine, an antidote.

There is no antidote for the infected - the bleeders, is what the soldiers call them.

The Mark (yes, now it gets a capital M) began to fade and spread all at the same time, until the majority of my skin had a faint chartreuse tinge.

Then, it was the middle of the night, but I woke up to a noise, a voice, curling and weaving through my head. My body had seemed to move on its own, but the next thing I remember was an illusion (I know it was an illusion now) of _Dad_ standing in front of me and when I went to hug him… He just laughed as he vanished. But now, _now_ , I could fight back, could summon pentagrams and hovering blades that didn’t seem to scare the soldiers, just made them laugh, say “Kid, you ain’t got nuthin’ on J35 - A.”

 _So there was an A before me_.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said I would be posting Shiro's chapter on Restless Rivers, and I don't really have an excuse for not doing that at all. I just.. I got so absorbed into studying for my exams and moving house and getting my bearings in the new area, that I just completely forgot about Restless Rivers. And then I read When the Dead Walk the Earth (which is a Voltron fic and it's really, really good, I recommend you read it), and it just inspired me to pick up some of my older stories, and, again, I'm sorry for forgetting about Restless Rivers - as soon as I can, you guys will be able to read Shiro's chapter.


End file.
